Ballroom brawl
by YF-21
Summary: Asuka Kazama is about to find out that working for relatives never pays off. Please read and review!
1. Tall, handsome and brooding

DISCLAIMER: The characters, story, universe, etc. of Tekken belongs to Namco. They're not mine, and I make no claim to them.

**Ballroom brawl** by YF-21

"" denotes speech.

_denotes emphasis._

* * *

The heavens roared. A bolt of lightning fell across the skies.

Jin Kazama placed a hand on the large window at the back of his office. The office was gloomy and cold, just like Jin himself. Though the day was dark and foul, no interior lights were on. There was no sound but the ticking of a longcase clock and the rattling of the drops against the window. It was september and there was a storm raging outside. The wet season would keep on raining until the first weeks of october, and then it would be cold after that.

Even with the downpour, the view was fantastic. The Mishima tower comically dwarfed any other building in Tokyo. At the height Jin´s office was, he could manage to see the entirety of the majestic Roppongi hills on the horizon and the wandering curves of the Arakawa river spilling into the bay itself. His office wasn´t even at the tallest floor of the building. Back in the eighties, when Jin´s grandfather Heihachi received word that his tower might not be the biggest in town in the near future, he undertook a massive engineering project that added forty floors to the already imposing building. It took seven years and astronomical costs, but he made sure his Mishima tower remained the tallest not just in the city, but in all of Japan.

From his office, at the very heart of the mighty Mishima zaibatsu, the entire city of Tokyo lied at his feet, like a sea of light surrounded by tobacco darkness. The thought made Jin chuckle to himself. He knew better than that.

There was no heart to this beast.

Jin was a tall, handsome young man with black hair and quick, intelligent eyes. He wore a well-tailored black dress shirt that accentuated his broad shoulders, with matching shoes. He was only twenty two years old, but he was the CEO of the largest, most influential multinational in history. From mass consumer goods and entertainment, to state of the art military hardware, the Mishima zaibatsu had a stranglehold of a fair share of the global market. Governments of lesser countries toppled at the mere suggestion of business withdrawal by the company. Such was the extent of the influence that it exerted that if Jin could take all the exclaves and exclusive administration areas granted to the zaibatsu from all over the world and put them together, it would form a small country. Small, but a country still. A country of Mishima.

Though one could say that the tower represented the symbolic heart of the company, Jin knew it surely wasn´t the brain of it. The zaibatsu was a multinational in its truest sense, in that there was no central chain of command to follow nor main office to attack. Like the many heads of the mythical Hydra, each branch of the company worked as their own autonomous, independent entity. Each ran their own projects, with their own staff and management. Should something befall the Mishima tower or the japanese branch, the others would carry on as everyday.

Jin also commanded a private army - though he would never call it that, that could easily rival any of the world´s superpowers. Composed entirely by mercenaries and soldiers of fortune, the Tekken force protected the interests and operations of the company against external agency. It was self-interest what motivated this army, and not flimsy things like lofty ideals or noble causes. Mishima paid the best, so they expected the best in return.

A shiver ran down Jin´s spine. He could feel his grandfather´s stern eyes on his back.

There was a big picture of the company´s previous head in the office. He didn´t have it removed when he took over the company, nor touched any of the many, many institutions under his name. It was fine. They were all good reminders of the crazy old fart. Besides, he couldn´t just take them off like that. People were used to him. For many decades, Heihachi had been the visible face of the Mishima zaibatsu.

Not anymore, he told himself. It was his now. By right and by force.

When his mother passed away, it had been Heihachi who took Jin under his wing. He had been groomed to take over the company since then. 'Make yourself useful, boy' His grandfather had said to him on occasion, 'and one day this will be all yours'. Of course, he didn´t mean any of that. There was no chance in hell Heihachi would ever let go of the zaibatsu. Jin had been groomed all that time, yes, but for something else entirely.

Something that had been dealt with, and best left forgotten.

If one could ask him, Jin would say he had no father. He had no grandfather. Most of his family was dead to him.

For there was one thing that bind all Mishimas together, and it was hate.

Jin had learned quite a bit about hate in the last few years. Hate was pure. There was purity in hate. True hate was sincere and genuine. He could only expect the worst from his immediate family and they could only expect the worst from him.

Most importanly, Jin had learned that hate was just too stubborn to die.

His risen great grandfather, sent back to the grave by him. His grandfather, surviving impossible odds time and time again. His very father, brought back to life by twisted science. Both were still out there, plotting his demise and each others in turn.

Jin, too, was a being of hate. When he came to hate enough, enough to lose, to immerse himself in it, his hate manifested upon him.

He turned into winged, horned hate.

Such thing was the bane of sanity, the erosion of the soul. Either he learned to master the devil within, or he would turn into a hollow mockery of a man like his father.

The sound of movement interrupted his ruminations. The doors of his office creaked open. The muscles on his back tensed by reflex.

It was an assassin. An assassin had come for him.

Jin didn´t even bother turning around.

An assassin on a contract, or one looking to make a name for itself, cunning and skilled enough to circumvent the numerous deathtraps of the tower, to stealth through the seasoned veterans of the Tekken force on guard and to track Jin down to his lair - his real office, not the one everyone expected him to be. It wouldn´t be the first time it happened.

Maybe it wasn´t an assassin after all. Maybe it was someone who had their life ruined by the zaibatsu. Maybe a person who had a dear friend, or a cherished family member lost or hurt to the company´s dirty, dirty dealings, now out for blood and revenge. Someone foolhardy and determined enough to power their way through the security detail, to evade the myriad defenses and to challenge Jin to a fair fight.

That wasn´t unheard of, either.

Jin understood he would have to meet justice one day. He was no stranger to the notion. He knew his deeds wouldn´t go unpunished forever. When justice catched up with him - when Jin was ready to face justice, he wouldn´t run nor hide, but only once it was over. Only once he was finally done.

"You have a congress to attend in Switzerland."

"Since when are you my secretary?" He wondered aloud.

"I could be, but I don´t think you can afford me." The voice behind him replied nonchalantly.

It was only then that Jin turned around. It was an assassin alright. His. "I didn´t know you cared, Nina. Thanks."

Tall and athletically slender, Nina Williams was clad in a purplish bodyglove that left nothing to the imagination except the risks involved. Her considerable beauty was plain to see. Full lips, fierce blue eyes and long blonde hair neatly tied into a ponytail. Nina was an assassin by trade, and one of the best in the business. Jin had met her awhile back, when she was hired by his father to kill him. A three day long battle ensued, including car chases, gunfights, several explosions and close quarter combats before Jin was able to convince her to work for him. Now she served as his personal bodyguard.

"Oh, it´s not like you pay me that much either." Nina said humorlessly. She quietly produced a tablet and handed it over to him.

"What is this about?"

"There is going to be a major defense contractor meeting in two weeks. The idea is to discuss deployment of experimental weaponry in Africa." She commented. It was no surprise for him that Nina kept current of most of the endless coming and goings of the zaibatsu´s everyday operations. He was the one who asked her to keep him appraised of the more relevant matters.

And double-check them himself later, just in case.

Jin took a look at the list in the tablet. It was full of companies and big names. Most were familiar, others not so much. Subach was a renowned small arms manufacturer. Besimmer-Kohn supplied NATO forces with armor. Triton Dynamics developed next-gen fighter and bomber craft for the chinese government. RNI systems dealt in military satellites and advanced surveillance equipment. Mekhu enterprises-

He had seen enough.

Jin returned the tablet to Nina. "This congress is a sham and I have no interest in it." He said. "We will proceed with business in Africa as usual."

"What do you mean?"

"These old fools are too fretful to compete," Jin replied as he sat on the chair by his desk. "so they are looking for ways to delay NANCY from entering the market."

The NANCY-MI847J heavy assault engine was the newest brainchild of the zaibatsu´s weapon R&D department. 'Inspired' by the venerable JACK series cybernetic infantry, the MI847J took automated warfare to the next level. It could perform a variety of roles on the battlefield, from bombing runs to escort duty and of course, heavy assault. NANCY beared an impressive array of weapons, from machine guns to guided bombs and racks of interceptor missiles. State of the art ECM blankets kept hostile targeting systems from adquiring a lock and depleted uranium armor plating made it nigh impervious to small arms fire.

Joke also had it that it was named after the head designer´s ex-wife.

The zaibatsu had chosen Africa as a test field for the MI847J´s capabilities. Dictators, governments and rebel forces from all over the continent received the leased war machines at ridiculous prices with open arms.

In Uganda, a spearhead of NANCYs end the fourteen month siege of Masindi by leveling a good third of the city. A few days later the surrender negotiations take a turn for the worst when the delegation representing warlord Samid Haddad is summarily executed after insisting over and over that the terms offered by the transitional government were unacceptable. Fortunately, the next delegation find the terms more agreeable.

The zaibatsu makes a point of supplying both sides of the sudanese civil war. The 'Soul Hunter' succesfully engages and destroys the 'Spirit of Adwa' twentysix kilometers off Umm Ruwaba, marking the first NANCY on NANCY kill on records. When news reach the town, the militia garrison flees in mass, granting the freedom fighters of blood general Ntendde control of the Rochefort oil fields in the area, which switch hands for the seventh time in the last four years.

The fifth son of somalian murder baron Adebba takes his father's MI847J for a spin. He loses control of the machine as it ploughs against the modest number of european tankers held for ransom that the baron has been 'adquiring' from the gulf of aden in recent months. The ensuing gigantic explosion sinks or heavily damages every ship in port and can be seen from a hundred and fifty kilometers away. Some of the fires still rage in Mogadishu today.

Jin couldn´t complain. Results so far - like sales projections, seemed rather promising.

"If so, then it´s a more of a reason to attend." Nina´s tone was disarmingly soft, yet commanding at the same time. "You don´t want to look unreasonable in front of the world."

Jin took a deep breath. "I see."

"The congress will be held forty km off Lucerne city," The assassin continued. "in the local Rochefort´s winter home. Lakeside, of course."

Jin didn´t need any introduction at all for the Rocheforts. They were an old monegasque merchant dynasty down in their luck that could, according to them, be easily traced back to the more enlightened days of the european Renaissance. While they mostly dealt with wine and vinegar shipments in the mediterranean, in the early twentieth century British rulership in Africa had somehow granted the family exploitation rights for the newly discovered oil fields in what would be later modern Nigeria and Sudan. Loads of money rolling in, they came to be known as the 'Oil kings of Monaco' overnight and overseas. Nowadays they were known for the lavish palaces and resorts they kept around the globe. Mr. Rochefort, the current head of the family, was an elderly widower in his late seventies, and bad word had it that his sole underage heiress was a bit of an eccentric. Lately, with developments in the sudanese civil war dwindling their stock value over and over, an eventual takeover by the zaibatsu seemed inevitable.

"It´s going to be important, Jin." Nina insisted. "Don´t skip this."

Their eyes met. They were not friends, nor lovers, nor colleages, but employer and employee. There was nothing that bind them other than their working relationship. There might be one thing, though. Nina, like himself, knew what was to have a family feud.

It was there, but she never spoke of it. He doesn´t ask either. They are rather private people at heart.

An impressive resume preceded Nina, her notorious career starting long before he was born. The thought made Jin smirk slightly. Nina didn´t look like it, but she was easily more than twice his age.

She had spent most of that time sleeping.

He was polite enough not to bring her real age up, nor the circumstances regarding her deep sleep. Jin didn´t pay her to think, but appreciated her input nonetheless. He appreciated her for her straightforwardness and diligence.

A sellsword was a sellsword though, so he made sure she got paid handsomely for her trouble. Jin respected Nina, but he was no fool. Paid loyalty could only go so far. He suspected she knew he kept her under surveillance. It was something he expected her to bring up eventually. If she knew, which she probably did, she didn´t say.

He knew he was being unfair to her. Nina had been nothing but professional so far.

It was just that he couldn´t bring himself to trust anyone anymore.

Nina knew Jin could turn into a literal monster at a moment´s notice. She had seen the monster in another life, and knew what it was capable of. She was aware that he struggled to control it, to give it direction. Nina understood he kept her around not just to keep her name off a laundry list of people that wanted him dead, but ultimately as a failsafe. If he strayed too far, it would be up to her to put him out of his misery.

There was an understanding between them. He knew her time was his, but should worst come to worst, his life - and the problem, would be entirely hers.

Of course, she was not only failsafe he kept around. Jin was too smart for that. He was not interested in dying at her hands, or at all.

That´s where the girl from Osaka came into play.

Asuka Kazama may not like Jin much, but she begrudgingly takes his money and mostly did as she was told.

It was through rather awkward circumstances that he discovered that her touch had the power to keep the devil in him at bay. Unlike the biochemical concoctions his father consumed, there were no secondary effects to his cousin´s touch. No sequels. No side effects. There was a secret buried in her genes that made her a valuable asset to him.

Jin visited his uncle´s house in Osaka. He hadn´t seen them since his mother´s funeral, years ago. Mr. Kazama owned a dojo in the city, where he taught Kazama-ryu style to the local youth. Mrs. Kazama was more of a traditional wife, and helped around with the house. Asuka was outraged.

Her parents, on the other hand, were delighted with his offer.

Jin´s timing couldn´t have been better. The last street fight Asuka breaks up gets a little out of hand. Gang members end up in the hospital. Stores lies in ruins. The police pokes around, asking questions. The authorities´ patience - just like her parents´, was wearing thin. They agree it would be good for her to keep a low profile for awhile.

Asuka protested every step of the way. Her parents should be ashamed of themselves, she says. She couldn´t believe that they were actually considering taking Jin´s blood money, that they were considering sending her away to Tokyo with him.

Jin was, in his cousin´s loving words, a 'total bastard', an 'asshole' and a 'shithead'. He couldn´t agree more. He was, in fact, all those things.

And if what had in store came to fruition, he would be even more.

"Inform miss Kazama she will be joining us."

"Understood."

* * *

**Author´s note:** God, I haven´t written in ages. I hope you can wade through the. sentence. fragments. that litter my writing. Yup, I´m making lots of stuff up in this, I know. I promise the fic is not going to be super serious either.

Lili´s turn is next.

See you around!


	2. Child of privilege

DISCLAIMER: The characters, story, universe, etc. of Tekken belongs to Namco. They're not mine, and I make no claim to them.

**Ballroom brawl** by YF-21

"" denotes speech.

_denotes emphasis._

* * *

_"I take it the head of the Mishima zaibatsu will be attending then?"_

Sebastian fumbled with the knobs of the stove for a bit. Either there were too many knobs to these things these days or he was just getting old. It was probably the latter one, he decided. With his grey hair and knowing eyes, there was an air of dignity about him, one that only four decades of working for the Rochefort family could grant to a man. He checked the water on the pot and turned off the burner. It was hot, yet not boiling. Perfect.

It was tuesday, and tuesday meant black tea day. Until recently, the young miss was having Masala Chai, but she had casually slipped that she was getting tired of it, so it was up to Sebastian to spice things up with another brew. He had picked Darjeeling first plucked for the evening. Now, the trick to Darjeeling and most black teas was temperature. Too hot, and you might ruin the leaves - too cold, and it wouldn´t fully take on the flavor. Sebastian poured the water on the cup and carefully removed the leaves from it, then added two spoonfuls of cuban sugar and cut a small slice of belgian vainilla cake - just one; the young miss had a sweet tooth, but not a lot of appetite. He neatly set everything on top of a silver tray and headed out of the kitchen. It was just one of the many kitchens of the resort, and the closest to the room where the young miss had decided to have the afternoon tea.

The Lucerne lake resort was a palace of gold and glitter, erected from pure white marble and alabaster. It had been called the 'Taj Mahal' of europe - a true monument to opulence, with no expense spared in its making. Built by the border of the lake, construction had taken place for most part of the sixties and a good part of the seventies too. It was a majestic, magical place. The main courtyard presented a vast variety of flowers that extended for hundreds of meters, and the private art collection of the west wing made some national museums look like humble galleries. All manners of luxuries aside, it´s massive auditorium alone could hold up to six hundred people and it had been the main reason why the place had been chosen for the conference.

As Sebastian made his way through the corridors, he came across scores of servants and workers coming and going. The same old faces, and lots of new ones. While every manor of the family kept a skeleton crew, at times of events they always received an influx of employees from the Rochefort´s off season hotel chains from around the world. There was a lot of work to be done in order to have the manor ready for the coming congress. A good mile of carpets and tapestry needed cleaning, extensive plumbing had to be checked, dozens of rooms needed to be set up and so. The newcomers all knew who he was, and if rumors about the young miss were even remotely true, they all pitied him immensely. The man had to have the patience of a saint to put up with the girl. While Sebastian himself would admit that dealing with her wasn´t always easy, what the young people couldn´t grasp was that serving the miss was not an obligation, but a pleasure.

They didn´t come here often. The young miss didn´t care much about the place, and found the mallorcan and canarian resorts more to her liking. For all its beauty Lucerne felt like a 'cold, sad tomb' according to her.

Sebastian didn´t think that way. Truth be told, he was glad to be back in Lucerne. There was a bit of nostalgia in the air. Everything seemed to remind him of her. The courtyards, the pier, the ballroom. Of all the lavish manors and resorts the Rocheforts held around the world, Lucerne had always been her favourite.

It had been seventeen years now, Lord rest her soul.

Born and raised in Lucerne city, Mrs. Rochefort had fond memories of spending her childhood days playing at the shores of the lake. She had mentioned her husband on occasion that it would have been nice to have a house by the lake. He took it upon himself to build her one.

Back in the day, Sebastian had first started his career as a chauffeur for Mrs. Rochefort. Whenever Mr. Rochefort wasn´t available, which was often, he would drive her around europe or anywhere she pleased. Mrs. Rochefort had taken a liking to him, and in time he got promoted to her personal butler. They used to spend afternoons walking, talking, playing piano. He knew he wasn´t a good conversationalist, but she assured he was a good listener. She enjoyed his company. He had been there for her, in her best and in her worst.

She had been a wonderful woman and a great friend. He missed her dearly at times. It didn´t mean he felt lonely, though.

He had her child to look after, after all.

Two staircases and three turns later, Sebastian stopped before a large room. He could hear the music slipping through the set of doors. Was it Chopin or Vivaldi? He annouced himself, out of custom, and entered.

It was most definitely Vivaldi.

The room had a breathtakingly panoramic view of the lake. There was still light outside, and he could see drops of white falling gently over the mass of water. He understood why the young miss picked this particular room of all available. Switzerland was lovely during the winter.

He found her there, by the fireplace, sitting on a caoba chair. The young miss, enraptured by the music, barely acknowledges him as he sets the tray on the small table besides her chair. A huge chandelier hung over the band playing for the young miss. She had recently requested the presence of the Warsaw philharmonic orchestra to come play for her in the afternoons. That didn´t faze Sebastian at all. She had always been rather generous with her father´s money.

The conductor´s baton moved like a living thing. It went limp for a moment, then turned sharp and vigorous. A crescendo was starting.

Manicured fingers reached out, placing gingerly lips on the cup of tea. Sebastian held his breath.

The music climaxed.

The young miss nodded in approval.

He breathed again.

All´s right with the world.

"I believe I asked you something earlier, Sebastian." She said.

"I might have missed it. My apologies. You were saying?"

"I was wondering if Jin Kazama would be assisting to the congress."

"I believe he will." He replied. "He was invited, after all. Why do you ask?"

Then she smiled, probably to herself, but it seemed to Sebastian like the loveliest thing in the world.

"Just wondering."

Emilie _de_ Rochefort was a girl of remarkable stature and poise - she stood or walked or sat just so, always with a perfect mix of elegance and grace. She wore a white lace thigh length dress that screamed of exquisite tailoring and exposed the better part of her long, long legs. Long, lustrous blonde hair crowned the chiseled features of her face.

Though Emilie was her name, nobody in Lucerne or in any of her many other manors refered to her by it. She had long declared that her name was a treasure for the one she treasured the most, so it´s use was reserved only to her father dearest. To Sebastian, and the rest of the servants, she was Lili.

Lili, sole heiress to the Rochefort estate and oil princess of Monaco.

Mrs. Rochefort tragically dies during childbirth. The world´s best obstetricians have severe misgivings about carrying a child at her age but the Rocheforts, who were never able to conceive before, decide to carry on with the pregnancy regardless of the dire warnings. When the announced end comes, Mr. Rochefort has to swallow his sadness at the same time he showers his baby girl with love.

Mr. Rochefort wants her to have the best education money can buy, so he brings the finest tutors and scholars from all over the world to Monaco. Amongst a multitude of subjects, Lili learns horseback riding, embroidery and floristry. The team is pleased to announce her father that the young miss excels at mathematics and history. A bohemian looking fellow from Florence seems to thinks she might have talent for painting.

Her true passion is classical dance, though.

Sebastian can recall endless afternoons of watching the young miss prance around in a tutu and a tiara, making sure she doesn´t overexert herself. Lili is as stubborn as she is perseverant, and starts from scratch her routine whenever she makes a mistake or falls short of a move. By the time she turns eleven, Mr. Rochefort rents the _Schönbrunn Schlosstheater_ in Vienna just to watch her perform. And perform she does. Under the rapt stare of two hundred of her father´s closest business partners, Lili moves with such grace and beauty it brings big fat wet tears rolling down her father´s cheeks. He´s been truly blessed with an angel, he says.

It breaks his heart when she tells him she is done with ballet.

Her newest fancy is artistic gymnastics. She does admirably in the balance beam but struggles with the uneven bars. Lili perseveres during all summer and autumn, and is disheartened to hear she is too young to participate in the coming women´s gymnastics championship. When Mr. Rochefort eventually hears of it, all it takes is a few phone calls and a generous donation to the _Union Européenne de Gymnastique_. "You won´t be twelve anymore for the next few days," He tells her. Actually, she wouldn´t be using her real name either. Lili rains him with hugs and kisses because she has the best father in the whole world. Mr. Rochefort laughs heartily all the while. It does help that she is rather tall for her age.

Then it happens.

Mr. Rochefort wants to pay the ransom, but the _Police Nationale_ will have none of it. After hours of tense standoff, the GIPN team outside the captor´s building finally receives the order to break in. To the surprise of the agents that find her, during the raid the twelve year old not only frees herself from her bindings, but somehow manages to reduce the kidnapper guarding her.

Later, amongst themselves, they can´t decide which is more disturbing - the broken grown man on the floor, begging for help or the manic expression on the girl´s face.

Father and daughter reunite in a bearhug. They cry on each other´s shoulders. Mr. Rochefort tells her she is the most precious star in his sky, and the only thing of worth - real worth he has left in the world. He has her promise him she won´t be trying anything as risky and foolhardy as that again.

Lili doesn´t realize it yet, but she is lying through her teeth.

Several weeks later, one afternoon during tea, she has Sebastian sit down for a chat. Lili looks straight into his eyes and calmly tells him in what she will be engaging from now on, and how he will be assisting her.

His eyes widen. The young miss in an unusual girl and has made some unusual requests in the past before, but nothing like this. The very notion of this particular request is so outlandish and ridiculous, he cannot quite believe the words coming out of her mouth. When Sebastian asks her to please not joke with him, he realizes in horror that she is being dead serious about it.

It´s the stress, Sebastian rationalizes. The stress she´s suffered during the kidnapping is talking for her. She´s gone through so much.

The poor thing. Sebastian gets on his feet. He has to tell her father.

Sebastian suddenly finds himself on the floor. Next thing he knows is that the young miss is straddling him.

He can´t move at all. She is pinning him down, somehow. Was she always this strong?

She has to know, she tells him. Her blue eyes bore into his. She has to know what it was what she felt back then. It´s eating her up inside.

She pleads without pleading. During her whole life, he´s always been there for her. She tells him it´s his responsability to help her. She can´t do this without him.

Her voice is breaking. Her voice never breaks. She is so proud and headstrong.

She has her mother´s face.

He doesn´t have the heart to refuse her. It will be their secret. Lili smiles, and wipes her tears in a small handkerchief.

This is just a phase, Sebastian reassures himself. A temporary thing. Something he has to endure until the young miss loses interest or another thing catches her fancy. For the time being though, he takes upon himself to pick suitable victims - er, _sparring partners_ for her.

First playmate he finds her is a homeless man from nearby Menton. A hobo agrees to have a girl hit him for money. Sebastian politely warns him that if he dares lay a single finger on the young miss, they will be all cut off.

Lili is disgusted, but not in the way Sebastian is hoping. To beat up a man unwilling to defend himself is beneath her. It is a challenge what she is looking for.

Sebastian begins scouting dojos and the like. He brings martial art students, boxing trainees and street trash to the Monaco manor. When they see her coming in a pink leotard, most of them just stare dumbfounded. It´s a joke. It has to be. While some look for hidden cameras, others even leave their guard down. It is only when the young miss asks them not to bleed all over the mattress that they realize what they are in for.

The butler doesn´t want to admit it at first, but the young miss has a knack for this, whatever this is supposed to be. It´s not a real martial art by any means, but an unique ´style´ the miss came up on her own. It doesn´t even have a name, but Sebastian can see parts of her old classical dance and artistic gymnastics repertoire in some of her moves. It´s certainly beautiful to behold, and as graceful and elegant as the miss herself.

As time passes, her aspirations grow larger. They call her ´Angel dust´ in the Milano illegal fighting circuit. She´s known as ´Fairy gale´ in the Hannover pits. Sebastian takes her all over Europe to different competitions. They almost get caught from time to time, but its nothing her legion of lawyers can´t handle.

Still, it doesn´t always go well. A particularly nasty concussion leaves her bedridden for half a month. A sprained ankle puts her out of commission for six weeks. Her father pays her a visit every time. A skiing accident, they tell him. Falling off a horse. Mr. Rochefort berates Sebastian time and time again for putting her dear girl at risk. Lili then takes her father´s hands into hers and assures him it´s alright.

She is only doing what she wants to do.

Lili happens upon an invitation for the fifth Iron Fist tournament one day. It is a most prestigious fighting tournament held by the dreadful Mishima zaibatsu, where the greatest fighters from all over the world test their skill and mettle. If she manages to win, maybe she can show her father dearest in what she has been investing in for the past years.

The effort goes poorly. The young miss is taken out in her first fight by a rather brutish japanese girl. It´s not the worst that happens either.

Mr. Rochefort finds out. They are recalled back to Monaco.

Her father is mad, furious. Sebastian has never seen Mr. Rochefort this angry before. He is betrayed, he says. Betrayed by his own flesh and blood. She is way too selfish. Too self-serving. He doesn´t have long and he´s spoilt her too much. What will become of everything once he is gone?

And Sebastian. He blames Sebastian too. How could he go behind his back all these years? Decades of service, and he puts the one he loves the most in such peril. He will have him fired, or worse.

Sebastian is not to blame, Lili says, standing up for him and interrupting her father´s endless tirade. All these years, he has done nothing but looking after her, and she deeply appreciates him for it. If it weren´t for Sebastian then he would have real reasons to worry about. The butler is visibly moved, because it´s the noblest thing the young miss has ever done for him. Mr. Rochefort notices too, and stays his hand.

Besides, Lili knows, if there is someone to blame for this fiasco, it surely is Asuka Kazama. Oh, how she longed to wipe that smirk off the girl´s face, to cave her unrefined skull in. Just fifty percent effort, eh? She would show her soon enough.

She doesn´t tell her father any of that, of course.

In all, Lili gets grounded. No more lies. No more going behind her father´s back.

No more fighting.

Sebastian considers the young miss gets off the hook pretty easily. She´s only confined to the european houses. Just a few weeks of proper behavior and she should get back on her father´s good graces, unless-

"Miss Lili," Sebastian started, "I beg you to reconsider whatever it is you are scheming this time. It would reflect poorly on your father if-"

"You have nothing to be concerned about, Sebastian." Lili cut him off calmly. "I merely intend to show Jin Kazama the house´s art collection. I want him to bask in the glory of Renoir, to have him drink deep of the well of emotion that is Monet. I want him weeping at the feet of Dubois´ _Jeanne d'Arc_-" There it was again, the smile. Lord, if she didn´t have her mother´s face. How was he supposed to go against her? "right before I kill him."

"What about the rest of the guests?"

"I didn´t think about that." Lili admitted. Pensive, she rested a crooked finger upon her lips. "They will have to kill themselves, I´m afraid."

* * *

**Author´s note:**Asuka´s turn comes next. Until next time!


	3. Nosy kid

DISCLAIMER: The characters, story, universe, etc. of Tekken belongs to Namco. They're not mine, and I make no claim to them.

**Ballroom brawl** by YF-21

"" denotes speech.

_denotes emphasis._

* * *

They meet at dusk.

They meet at dusk in the abandoned construction site near Takinogawa park. Ripped leather jackets, stylish hairdos and tattoos gather there, brandishing baseball bats, chains and long, wicked grins. They stand in two opposite, boisterous lines. The boys with the red mohawks are no other than the Crimson Mohawk gang. The wall sprays in the neighbourhood would lead one to believe that they fancy themselves the rulers of the park, Okashima high school and around - or at least did, until those serpent bastards started pushing their shit in. The ones with the snake emblem stitched onto the back of their jackets are the Rock Vipers. Originally hailing from Arakawa high, the vipers have earned quite a vicious, unsavory reputation. Just like the ophidian they are named after, they make a point of blinding their opponents during fighting by spitting into their eyes.

It is just a game in the beginning. Messing around in the mohawk´s turf, littering their park, spraying over their sprays. A brief scuffle here, there. It´s not so fun after awhile. Things escalate quickly. The wrong people start getting punched and spitted on. The neighbourhood is alarmed.

Enough is enough. This has to end now, before the pigs butt in. A challenge is issued in the social networks. The time and place is set.

Standing in the middle of the Crimson Mohawk line is Takeo. One can tell he is the boss of the gang because his mohawk is the largest and the reddest of the bunch. He reminds his men, all eleven of them, that every each one of them is twice the man the vipers are. The Rock Vipers, a larger gang, can only muster nineteen of their own numbers, so it evens out for the vipers, sort of.

The jeering stops, then the game begins - the adrenaline is high. You can feel the tension.

It ends here, at dusk, in the abandoned construction site near Takinogawa park. If they manage to pull this off, the mohawks´ children will surely sing songs of this day.

A mountain bike skids into the site, splattering some of the vipers with mud. It has been raining all day, and the construction site is filled with puddles of water and mud. A schoolgirl gets off the bike, clad in the drab colors of the 'Heihachi institute for higher learning' uniform. The girl is a rather pretty thing, with auburn hair and eyes. The boys ogle at her generous curves as she carries herself with confidence towards them. She stands in front of Takeo, hands on her hips and is about to say something when a cry of rage interrupts her. It´s Kyoshiro. The girl´s ruined Kyoshiro´s jacket with her bike.

Near two meters tall, Kyoshiro is the biggest, baddest viper there is. If you need someone reduced to mincemeat, you call Kyoshiro. If you want someone spitted on, Kyoshiro is your man. It is said he can hit bullseyes with his saliva from three meters afar. All the other vipers look up to him. It is his favourite jacket that the schoolgirl has smeared with mud, and his mother the one who sewed the now ruined viper patch on the back of it. He can hardly contain himself. Heads will surely roll for this.

As he walks up to her, his anger dissolves into a big, goofy grin. Kyoshiro says he will forgive her if she lets him 'motorboat' her breasts. He even makes the motion and sound of it, which elicits big guffaws all around him except from her, of course. It is when he has the gall to actually try and reach for them that she sits him down with with a punch to the nose.

The laughter ends abruptly, replaced by nervous silence. The mohawks too, way surprised to act, remain silent. Shaken, Kyoshiro tries to stand up, but his legs give way and he keeps falling on his ass again and again. It takes a lot of concentration to finally get himself off the floor. His face is beet red. Embarrassed beyond belief, he knows he is never going to live it down, not with those mohawk morons watching. A girl has just thrown him a hell of a punch, and the only way left for him to save some face now is to slap her silly.

The schoolgirl seemingly takes some sort of stance, shifting her hips to her right and holding her arms in the air. She swiftly catches Kyoshiro´s arm when he tries to punch her and throws him around like a ragdoll. Kyoshiro calls her a thousand names as he gets on his feet one more time and comes at her again, all angry and dumb. She merely moves away from his lunge, then plants her hand on his face, breaking his balance and smashing the back of his skull against the concrete with such strength it makes everybody seeing wince.

His body twists and jerks on the floor. He´s out. Kyoshiro´s knocked out cold.

To their credit, the look of dismay on the vipers faces doesn´t last long. They literally throw themselves at the girl. She fends them off, ducking under a baseball bat swing and driving her knee into a burly kid´s stomach, ramming her body shoulder-first into the dude with the chains. The girl does a backflip, kicking the chin of a viper and then sweeping the feet out from another.

Takeo is in awe. In all his years of brawling, he has never seen a girl fight like this. By the way she weaves in and out of combatand the moves she pulls, she has to be a seasoned fighter or something. Who is she? A kindred soul perhaps, looking to help Takinogawa in its darkest hour? He orders his mohawks to get into the fight and help her out. This is their chance. With her assistance, they can drive the serpent bastards out.

It turns out that the girl doesn´t need nor want their help. She catches Aiyama by the arm and smashes him against a column. Takeo winces as he watches her punch poor Ishida in the chin with both her fists, lifting him off his feet from the sheer impact. He wants to tell her that they are on her side, but then realizes there is no side to her.

She is going to beat up the whole lot of them.

Two weeks ago, rumor had it that the Roppongi Moons were wiped out, not by their hated rivals the Yumenoshima Sharks like the latter claimed, but by some schoolgirl in a bike. Last week, Takeo had received word that the Meguro Lions were ambushed by the Ebisuminami Hellhounds, who were then ambushed in turn by a schoolgirl who beat both lions and hellhounds up in a grand melee outside Fudo park. While rumors of this kind usually tended to be rife with hilarious exaggerations, they all agreed in one thing.

The schoolgirl in question had the nicest rack.

It is true. The pair on her are really, really nice. It almost takes from the fact that she is going to wipe the floor with each and every one of them. Almost.

The onslaught ends at the sound of the police car sirens. Even with plenty of time to run or escape, the schoolgirl stands there, as if contemplating her own handiwork. A writhing, groaning, moaning mass lies at her feet - a collection of black eyes, broken noses and bruised egos. Bathed in intermitent blue and red, she doesn´t flinch nor resists when the cops put the cuffs on her and take her away.

* * *

Asuka Kazama sits alone on the bench of her cell in the police department. Although it is pretty big for just one person, it is her cell because no one else will share it with her. The mohawks, the vipers and all the other gangs before them beg the authorities to be put in different cells. The cops don´t want to risk more altercations, and comply every time. They seem to be getting in a better mood after a few hours. It turns out that getting beat up by a girl is pretty embarrassing, but when everybody gets beaten up by the same girl, it´s not so bad anymore. When the jeering coming from the adjacent cells turns unbearable enough she yells at them that they better hush it and they whine and whimper into silence.

Asuka pulls her legs to her chest, wrapping them with her arms. She feels awful. Her uniform is caked in mud and dry spit. Those disgusting viper idiots couldn´t land one hit on her, but managed to drench her in saliva instead. Oh, and she reeks of cigarrete, pot and who knows what else too.

She could use a bath right now. A long, soapy bath in the tub of her apartment. Jin might be an asshole but the apartment he gets for her is nice enough. Fully furnished, with a huge plasma tv, all manners of appliances and a great view of the bay outside. It doesn´t make her any less mad at her cousin nor makes Tokyo any less terrible than it is, but is something at least.

Tokyo is way noisy and crowded, but not in the way Osaka is way noisy and crowded. The water tastes different, the food is spicier and the ominous shadow of the Mishima tower looms over the entire city. It is like an impregnable, inscrutable fortress sitting in the middle of town. It stands out from wherever she is and it keeps reminding her of him.

The first time Asuka meets Jin is at her aunt´s funeral in Kouzu island. She is only ten or eleven at the time, but that doesn´t keep her dad from making her promise him she is going to behave. After the ceremonies end she finds Jin sitting on a rock, looking at the coastline below. Though she can´t quite recall what it is that she says to him back then, it must have been a good thing because he nods and gives her a smile in return. Surprised, she nods back at him, hoping he doesn´t notice the blush in her cheeks.

The second time she meets Jin is during the last tournament. Asuka gets eliminated in her second fight, but she doesn´t mind - the only reason she is in the tournament at all is to get back at the fighter who thrashed her dad. She never catches up with him, but she does run into Jin - or at least into a monster who looks like him, fighting another monster.

Her eyes don´t give credit to what she sees. They look like something out of myth. Distance does nothing to steal any of the monsters blunt, savage grandeur. They are ruined, towering things of hate and rancor. The earth trembles, shatters with every one of their steps. The air booms, it explodes with every hit. The heavens split asunder above them, as the clouds catch fire with stray lances of light and bursts of energy. The monsters are locked in titanic combat, and she is the sole witness to it.

Her feet are glued to the ground. Kill or be killed, says the old adage, but these monsters are more hellbent into destroying each other than fighting for their own survival. Asuka doesn´t avert her gaze. She can´t. Tears well up in her eyes. It all feels strangely melancholic and familiar, but she can´t tell why.

The fight ends with one of the monsters not so much falling, but crumbling to the ground. The one that remains standing quickly fixes on her with slitted eyes.

Serenity flees from him. He claws after it, raging against the futility of his own desperation. The taste of failure is already coating his tongue with familiar bitterness. He roars to the skies, wanting rainwater to wash the taste from his teeth. His scream ends dry.

He had been so close to retaining serenity this time. So close. Yet it flees, bringing him back to a world of bleeding wounds and bruised bones. He wishes for something, anything, to ease the whispers in his head, mutilating his soul with their poison. And he is weak. Weak and blind. He trembles in the dark, shivering and pained and inhaling the reek of his own blood. He can´t see his hands before his face.

But he sees her.

He sees her, like a shining beacon in the dark, and he is weak. Weak and blind. _Kill for the sake of killing_, the voices whisper in his mind, _destroy for the sake of destruction_. Hers, yes. Her blood will sate the devil in him.

_Jin!_, says a voice.

Jin. The name has no meaning.

_Jin_. _Jin_. _Jin_. The voice insists. He roars a second time, bellowing for it to get out of his head.

_Is that you?_

Yes, this is him. The real him. This is what he has become.

Asuka snaps out of her commotion and assumes a fighting stance. She knows it´s not going to be enough. The time to run is long past when the Jin-creature thunders towards her. What chance does she have against a demon that makes the earth tremble and tears apart the sky? Still, she has to try. She can´t give up.

She eludes its fists as she can, but the hate-thing is too strong, too fast. Asuka can barely keep up with it. The girl calls after it, again and again, disbelief in her voice. That is not Jin. That can´t be him. Jin doesn´t have horns, nor black raven wings.

Despair sets in, and instincts kick in too. A stray fist becomes a counterpunch. A caught arm becomes a press. Asuka sees an opportunity, and she slams the palm of her hand against the creature´s solar plexus with all her might. It would have put any man out of a fight, but the hate-thing is no man. It barely takes notice as it sends her sprawling to the floor with the back of its hand.

The girl howls from the pain. Stars appear in her eyes. She has no time to wipe the blood from her busted lips that is she rolling on the floor. To stay down is death. A searing spear erupts from its gaze, and the ground she was previously on turns to ash. Relentless, remorseless, the creature emerges from the dust, murder in its eyes. She gets on her feet, defiance in her face, but she can do no more. Asuka resumes her stance, though the lactic acid in her muscles cry and some of her ribs burn like they are on fire. This is it. It is death incarnate, and she can´t fend it off any longer. Even so, she is determined to go down fighting.

It is death incarnate and she gasps as it collapses on top of her and drags her along with it to the ground.

Wide eyed, Asuka stares at the skies above. Is she dead yet? Slowly, she guesses it must be not the case, since her heart is pounding against her chest and she can feel its weight on top of her. She doesn´t want to look down. Whatever lies on top of her is still for the moment, and to her, right then, is enough. Asuka is physically and emotionally exhausted from it all. The whole ordeal is too much for her to take. They stay like that for awhile.

When she gathers enough courage to check, it is him. His demonic features seemingly dissipate into thin air when she isn´t looking and Jin turns back into Jin again. Relief washes over her. She becomes bashful when she finds herself staring for too long at his unconscious, handsome features and slides him off her as gently as she can.

Asuka is wiping the blood off her face with the back of her hand when Jin comes back to his senses. She is sitting right next to him when he suddenly gets on his feet. Not uttering a word, he looks at himself first and then at her. They are both ruined and battered, covered in bruises and scabs. She looks at him from the floor, and he looks like a marble statue. Cold, distant. A shattered statue, but a statue still. Their eyes meet and the only light she can find in them is that of grim determination. Long gone is the kind, gentle boy she remembers meeting years back in Kouzu island. What had happened to him? What kind of experiences could warp someone so?

There´s a thousand things she means to say, to ask him, but her mind goes blank and can´t come up with any. 'Thanks' he tells her plainly, and Asuka thinks she manages to nod in return. Jin then turns his back on her and walks down the wasteland. She watches him go, until he vanishes from sight, as if in a dream.

It is only then that she breaks down.

The sound of footsteps coming down the corridor snaps her out of her reverie. It is about time. Waiting is always the worst part.

Asuka is no stranger to jails. She´s been in trouble before, and knows how these things work. She is just a minor, and other than a slap in the wrist and the staring down of a lifetime, there is no real consequence to any of her actions. She might as well get the better of it, while she still is underage. Being a minor also means that the closest relative of age is also legally responsible for her. Every time she gets in trouble in Tokyo, the police would have to contact Jin in his mighty tower and remind him that he is under obligation to come pick her up at the department. Jin never comes himself, but sends his zaibatsu goons in his stead. She doesn´t care - it´s fine.

It´s the thought what really counts.

Eddy, she doesn´t mind. The capoeira fighter works for Jin as his security officer and is the one to come pick her up the first two times. He is a pretty alright guy - pretty alright, for someone working for Jin, that is.

Nina, not so much.

Nina Williams appears by the barred door of her cell, police officer in tow. Wearing a dark grey office suit with glasses, Nina is Jin´s very own secretary/bodyguard/murderess thing. The girl doesn´t like her very much. Something about the blonde woman rubs her the wrong way. She is cold and all businesslike, just like her cousin. No wonder why they get along so well.

"I was wondering when any of you would show up." Asuka says. She gets off the bench and walks up to the door. "What, Eddy couldn´t make it?"

"Mr. Gordo has more pressing matters to attend than getting you out of jail." The blonde woman informs her curtly.

"And you don´t?" The girl says, slinging her arms through the bars. "Sucks to be you, huh."

Nina doesn´t fall for her barb, though she wasn´t expecting her to. "What happened this time?" She asks.

"I ran into two gangs about to fight in a construction site." Asuka explains in a flat, disinterested tone. "I tried to break them apart. It didn´t work in the end and I had to defend myself."

"Is that why you anonymously tipped the police the wrong time of the fight, so you could have dealt with all of them by the time they arrived?"

She lifts an eyebrow and gives her a practised smirk. "_What?_ I didn´t do any of that."

"Your call. You voice." Nina states.

"_Are you really listening to my calls?!_" The girl loses it in a heartbeat. Indignation rises in her voice, and she is too angry to notice she´s giving herself out entirely.

"Are you really using the phone we gave you?" The blonde woman counters.

Asuka slips her arms back and ruffles her hands through her hair. She was getting really mad now. She had been so stupid! Why did she even bother trusting these zaibatsu assholes? Why did she have to make those calls from that phone? Of course it was bugged to hell - and it was such a nice phone too! Nevermind that this probably meant her apartment was probably bugged too.

"I can´t believe you´d spy on me! Have you got nothing better to do?!"

"We could ask you the same thing."

"So it´s going to be one of 'those talks', huh." The girl says sardonically. "Before we get started let me tell you that no, I can´t 'mind my own business'." She makes a gesture and everything. "It doesn´t work that way. I have a reputation to maintain."

"You are fully aware that what you are doing doesn´t even count as vigilantism, right?"

"Why, are you going to call my pops about it? Are you going to tell them that I´m acting up? Tell my dad I say he´s an ass, while you are at it!"

Furious, Asuka slams her hands against the bars of the cell. They shake badly, and dust and small chips of material fall from the ceiling. Nina doesn´t flinch, but startled, the cop behind her takes a step back.

"You!" Asuka says to the officer. "Let me out of here already!" Keys in hand, the officer stands there with a dumbfounded look on his face, watching back and forth the tense exchange between the two women. He is about to comply, when Nina lifts her hand slightly and he stops dead in his track.

"This has to stop." Nina says.

"I agree." Asuka glares at her. "Get me Jin."

"You were already informed that that wasn´t going to be poss-"

"I want to see Jin." She insists.

"He will see you when it is-"

"I want to see him right now!" Asuka cuts her off again. "I want him to come here and get me out himself, so I can give him a piece of my mind. I don´t want Eddy. I don´t want you. I want _him_."

"Jin understands that you are upset about your relocation." Nina says calmly, changing the subject, though she could hear the girl muttering something under her breath in response. "That´s why he is willing to review your contract´s remuneration."

Asuka blinks. She wasn´t expecting that. Nina produces a pen and a small annotator from her pockets. It strikes Asuka as odd, because Nina doesn´t look like someone who would carry such things around. Nina writes down a figure on it and shows it to her.

"He´s already paying me this." Asuka says.

Nina lifts the tip of the pen for a moment, catching her eyes, then adds a single zero at the end of the sum in the paper.

The girl considers the new sum for half a heartbeat. "Oh, if he thinks he can-" She starts.

Nina lifts the pen again, then adds another zero to the sum.

Asuka gulps this time. The already generous sum Jin is providing her with suddenly turns into a whole bunch of money. She could buy the newest mountain bike she wanted with this - no, scratch that - she could buy a car. Two cars. _Three cars._ She could also have vacations in a five star hotel in Hawaii or the French Polynesia like she always dreamed of, and all it would take would be for her to let things slide and stop being such a pain in the-

"He is listening, right?" Asuka says half-absently, unable to unglue her eyes from the sum offered in the paper.

"What?"

It takes a lot to catch someone like Nina Williams by surprise, but she honestly didn´t expect the schoolgirl to grab her by the lapels of the jacket of her suit and slam her against the bars of the cell. While she could easily slip one of her hands through the bars, grab the girl by the back of her skull and smash her forehead against the irons - or simply shatter her arms and break free - one couldn´t be as knowledgeable and experienced in the deadly arts as Nina was without showing restraint. She could tell the girl had meant no harm by grabbing her, but whatever Asuka Kazama was trying to pull here, it had be better be good.

"Hey, Jin!" Asuka literally yells into Nina´s jacket. If she knew her dear cousin, - which she really didn´t - Nina was bound to be all wired and bugged too. Chances were Jin was probably listening to the whole conversation in his lair in the Mishima tower. "You sure have the nerve to drag me here all the way from Osaka, but you don´t have the time to listen to me tell you what I think about it, right?! Whatever it is you need me for - you could have always asked for my help instead, did you know that?! It´s really unfair!"

"Enough!" Nina raises her voice. "Get your hands off me now!"

It was out of pure impulse, but Asuka knows she was only able to grab her because Nina had allowed it. She lets her go, not pushing her luck any further. By the icy stare the blonde is giving her, she wouldn´t be that fortunate a second time.

"Don´t you get it, kid?" Nina says as she dusts off her jacket. "Jin doesn´t have time to deal with your childishness."

And it is true. For all it is worth, antagonizing the zaibatsu people is really getting her nowhere. Even if he was a total ass about it, Jin couldn´t have brought her here unless it were for good reasons, right? Besides, a part of her still wants to ask him all that she meant to back then.

"Alright, alright, I get it. I´ll stop being a pain in the ass." Asuka sighs, calming down and scratching the back of her head. "But I want a new phone." She adds.

For a moment, both Asuka and Nina measure each other in the eye.

"Done." The blonde accepts.

"Without bugs."

"Done."

"And I want the bugs and cameras out of my apartment too."

"Done."

"It is a deal then." Asuka announces.

Nina turns to the officer behind her. "Release her."

And the girl is out. She walks up to Nina, says something to her jacket, and the blonde watches her leave around the corner.

"_I hope you are happy, asshole._"

There is a familiar buzzing in her commlink. Nina picks it up. It´s the voice of her boss.

"I apologize for all that." Jin says.

"It´s fine." She sighs.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** And I´m dooooone with character introductions. The real story begins from now on.

To all those who bothered to review, thanks a lot! Feedback means a lot to me. Until next time!


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